Let me set the scene: H and I are sitting in our apartment relaxing after a hard day of new apartment wrangling. We’re on the floor since we have yet to acquire any chairs (or, really, any furniture at all other than a bed). I casually look to my right, and see the usual stuff. Y’know, the empty box our microwave came in, our cleaning supplies, something crawling out of our open bedroom door, our huge stack of books, that kind of stuff.
Wait, what? I take a closer look, and what do I see? The creepiest bug, ever. Perhaps you think I am exaggerating. “I’ve seen cockroaches.” you say. “I’ve seen tarantulas. What could possibly haunt your bourgeois little apartment that would be that bad?” Well, how about this. Think of the worst, ickiest, spine-crawlingest bug you’ve ever seen. Got it? Good. Now follow this link:
http://igmund.wordpress.com/aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa/ *
If your bug was scarier, one of three things is true:
A: You and I have different definitions about what makes a bug scary. Did you see those legs? THOSE HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE LEGS?
B: You are a gibbering madman (madwoman? madperson?), consigned to a life of pure terror after having glimpsed the awful Ur-Bug, Devourer of Minds, and you somehow perused this page during your computer time at the dilapidated asylum you call home (rather than alternately gnawing on the keyboard and drooling, as is your wont).
C: You are a liar.
After some work, I dispatched the creature using the underside of my footwear.
Postscript: For the curious, here are some terrifying details: this insect is known as the “House Centipede,” or as I like to call it, “AAA! KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE!” I have actually encountered it once before, when I was in high school.**
This was during one of my busiest semesters, when I was preparing for five different AP exams. While the whole period was rife was lack of sleep, this week was particularly bad. I recall waking up one morning and being unable for several minutes to remember my name, much less what the awful buzzing noise was (it was my alarm).
One night I was up late reading American history on the couch. I wanted to get through the rest of the chapter before I went to bed, so that I wouldn’t fall behind. However, this task was becoming increasingly difficult due to the way the words on the page moved and formed pictures, such as a kitty cat, or an aeroplane (whoosh!). I wrestled with this for a while, but after reading the same paragraph for the seventh time I decided to pack it in and go to bed.
As I put my foot onto the carpet, I instantly drew it back in fright as some indistinctly seen, many-legged monstrosity skittered across the carpet and under the very couch I was sitting on. In my fatigue addled state, I huddled there for a while trying to figure out what it could have been. Eventually, I convinced myself that it must have been a bizarre hallucination and went upstairs (moving away from the couch perhaps a bit swifter than was strictly necessary, given that conclusion).
This would have been the end of it, except that a few days later I heard my mother exclaim “What on earth is that on the wall?” Dun dun dun!
* This image was shamefacedly stolen from elsewhere on the interwebs. The images I could legally use simply didn’t express the full weight of terror the beast inspires in me.
** My memory is actually a bit fuzzy concerning this time due to extreme sleep deprivation, and, also, because I am an old man with a cane. I therefore reserve the right to make up any part of this story I can’t remember.
